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I started this blog years ago to recount the daily going ons of an aspiring author raising three kids. I haven’t posted for awhile – I’ve been writing book after book. But tonight I’m changing gears. I’ve got a few new topics to write about. It’ll keep me sane.

The kids are great. The boys are in college. The girl is starting eighth grade. She’ll be in high school soon. But I’m getting off topic.

On June 1st, I had my right thyroid removed. There was a nearly 2cm nodule along with a bunch of little ones. The biopsy on the large one was benign.

One of the little ones was not. One was cancerous.

Since they my left thyroid has stopped functioning. I’ve been on thyroid meds for a little over a week. It’s been hell.

So why am I writing this? Because I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of being angry. I want to be happy again. I can’t get my doctor to talk to me (my surgeon and family doctor are awesome though). I don’t want to constantly vent to my friends and family. Writing is my outlet.

He left this morning with camera in tow insisting there would be pictures. I tried all day to text chat him wondering how the day went. He never responded. I figured he was mad at me because I reinforced the idea that he ask this girl he has an insane crush on to the movies. What could he lose?

Finally at 3:00, fifteen minutes after the moment came and went, I called him.

I found out the reason he didn’t text was that his phone was close to dead (and we’re talking on it???) and it was a busy day. Day went well. There were some tear inducing moments. He took 30 pictures. The school paper misspelled his name and has him going to the wrong college.

And the girl? Just as he worked the nerve to ask her the alarm went off for a fire drill. (How sad!) He thinks he might text her later.

Then he asked if he could hang up and get back to his basketball game.

The ceremony is tomorrow night. I think it will be a recap of his day…take a few pictures. Probably a few things misspelled (hopefully not the diploma!). Maybe a date with the crush girl (not at the ceremony of course). And a few tear inducing moments (especially for Mama).

I am happy to say I’m back from the dead. Or at least it felt like I had died. At least a dozen times.

A week ago yesterday I started the day stressed – alot of drama over The Beast (Jake’s car). I was pretty much angry at everyone. But noon, my skin on my neck and scalp started to tingle. Then it started to burn. It wasn’t just any burn. It felt like a legion of fire ants marching under my skin x 10. The muscles in my neck started to ache. Then, as I tried to eat my lunch it took two swallows to get my yogurt down.

Thinking I was having an allergic reaction to something (even though I’m not allergic to anything), I made an immediate appointment to see my doctor. By the time I got to the doctor I could add dizzy to the list of symptoms. Fortunately it wasn’t an allergic reaction.

It was shingles.

I wouldn’t wish shingles on my worst enemy.

I was given three prescriptions – an antibiotic, meds for chicken pox (which shingles are but the adult version), and prednisone. I nearly passed out at the store as I waited at the pharmacy for over an hour to get my medication. Then it was home and off to bed…or at least as close to off to bed as a wife and mother of three gets. I attempted to go to work the next day and was sent promptly home partially due to fear of catching what I had (I wasn’t contagious) – and partially because I looked something close to death warmed over.

At it’s worst I fought with chills and fever all at the same time. My muscles ached. I was constantly tired. It took three days before I could swallow normal. And until just a day or two ago it felt as if a low level electric current was running through my muscles.

My family, who were some of the causes of my stress, have been angels. They’ve cooked, they’ve cleaned, they’ve given extra hugs and kisses and cuddles (even when it hurt to cuddle – but it’s the thought that counts!). The hubby has gotten the car for me, taken chairs to track meets so I can rest and kept the house in line. He’s been the best.

I still have muscle aches and am unnormally tired. But it’s nice to feel alive again. 🙂

Last night the boys were at a track meet (new personal bests for both!! Jake threw 129’2″ and Jon shave his 400 low hurdle by a second to a new time of 1:12 – very happy proud mom here!) and Brian had to work. It left Sissy and I to our own devices.

First we dutifully went to track practice. I felt bad I had to drag her along. But then I realized that she has come to love practice. She was very excited to go. She even asked that she starts practice throwing the eight pound shot since it makes the six pound shot feel lighter. That’s my he-girl!

Then…we snuck off to Parlor City for ice cream and funnel cakes to celebrate a great practice, the brosephs (Alex’s term for her brothers) new PRs and well…girls night!

Then we went home to continue the celebration with bowls of maccaroni and cheese, some WWE (yes, we girls love WWE) and a few rounds of…

She beat me twice. I now understand why her brothers won’t play her anymore. Chutes and Ladders shark is what she is.

We were glad to see the guys when they got home. But it was nice to have a night just my girl and me.

Being a fledging author (along with mom/wife/employee/coach/etc, etc, etc) I’ve been studying the trends that work for other top selling authors. The two trends I have been noticing for indie authors like me? One is podcasts. Right now with the end of the high school track season – and of course more than that the impending graduation at the end of next month – beginning podcasting isn’t a great idea. Table that idea for summer…maybe the end of club season.

The other trend I have noticed? Blogging portions of the novel for others to read as I have already done with Woodcutter. I was sold on this idea with Woodcutter so…I am going to do it again!

Tomorrow starts with volleyball at 10:00 following with Alex’s fashion show at 2:00. She is a model in an American Girl Fashion Show being held as a fund-raiser for the children’s museum. Unfortunately the museum and the fashion show are about 40 minutes away from our house. And since she informed me after practice last week that she was all sweaty we have to squeeze a bath in there somewhere. And add in picking up Grandmas. Yep…chaos.

The boys are loving every minute of it. They love their baby sister but for them attending this fashion show would be a fate worse than death. We aren’t mean enough parents – we’re allowing them to stay home. Since they have worked their tails off at track it’s probably good for them to have a day to recover.

Anyway I digress…

I went out for my lunch to find Alex a pair of white sandals. It’s the only part of the outfit the children’s museum doesn’t provide. And with Easter only a couple of weeks white sandals should be in abundance, right?

Wrong!

I guess the “in” color this year is silver.

Granted I only had the chance to look at one store but it’s one of those stores you would guess would have them. My outlook at finding them tonight looks bleak, especially with club track this evening that I really can’t miss. With the “second job” taking a momentary downswing I was hoping for a night to relax. I have a copy of Catching Fire on the bookshelf begging me to read it – no better night than tonight to start.

I have been limping by this week with no coffeemaker. I have been able to make coffee in the espresso maker, but it takes for-ev-er.

This morning I woke up to get the boys out the door for school. Since we had no “real breakfast” (aka – frozen waffles) in the house I made Jon some toast. I popped two pieces of bread in the toaster then a plastic bowl with a couple pats of butter into the microwave. After a second or two I heard a snap and sizzle come from the microwave. Then another. Butter shouldn’t make that sound.

I turned in time to witness the mini fireball in the far back corner of the microwave.

I punched the “stop” button at least a dozen times to turn it off then stared at the door, not sure whether to leave it closed or open it and risk a freak explosion. I finally opened it and looked inside. There was no sign of my little light show. I took out the butter (barely softened) and spread it on Jon’s toast still giving the microwave the evil eye. After a bit I opened the door and took out the metal rack that comes with it. When we bought it someone told us we could leave it in there even though I protested it was metal. I figured it as the first culprit.

The boys have a half day so I am hoping to have a house when I get home since there is half a pizza in the refrigerator and they will want to warm it up. Between this and the coffee maker I’m starting to believe the appliances are planning a coup against me. I hope to hold off the revolt before the washer and dryer get involved or I am going to be up a creek…